Benedict Cumberbatch, Part 2

There is a saying: “What you resist persists.” It persists, and persists, and persists. Sometimes a problem with them is all you need, but this one, well, it’s stayed. If you understand how I’m feeling (and look at the picture), you’ll understand why there’s such a crazy thing going on in my head. I mean, look at him! He’s absolutely gorgeous! Well, maybe not your kind of gorgeous, but there’s a certain quality there. Maybe, perhaps, that’s why his brand of not knowing how it really feels to be autistic-the kind of autism you have on your inside-smarts even more.

I am not really that mad at Benedict Cumberbatch. I am more of a sad. There’s almost an expectation among people that you are perceived with basic human needs and wants, and almost nobody else is aware of this expectation. I mean, just about all of us autistics are intimately, acutely aware that we perceive the world differently. The rub is, most of us want to be seen as adult humans, with needs and wants, and he spoke of us as mostly children! That is what hurt the most. But, truth is, society itself sees “disabled” people, and autistics by extension, as objects of pity. I really don’t see disabled people that way, possibly because I have been lumped in with them. It’s a blindness given to us by society that even the sighted have. I personally don’t know if he’s ready or open to an education, but if and when he is, we need to be right there to provide the source material. Only those who are really autistic can provide the true source material.

But for now, let’s gaze upon him. *sigh*

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